Calytrix

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Calytrix Page 3

by Chris Keniston


  “There you are.” A woman in a large apron, wielding an equally large knife, spun about and he resisted the urge to take a step back. “Do we have a number for cake?”

  “Does everyone count?” Deidra asked.

  “That’s what I thought.” The woman slapped the knife on the table. “I’d better see if Lily can bring over something extra from the bakery.”

  “I’m sure not everyone is going to have cake,” Zane suggested.

  Brows buckled on the woman he assumed was Lucy. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

  “Zane Crandall. I’m here to meet…”

  Lucy’s jaw dropped open and he had this horrible feeling she was about to say something he didn’t want to hear.

  ***

  “Are you all right?” Callie set the platter on the large island and reached for Lucy. The woman had gone sheet white.

  “The Zane Crandall?” Lucy muttered.

  Zane shifted his weight ever so slightly and smiled weakly. “I don’t know about that, but my grandfather is friends with the General. I’m here to meet up with him next week.”

  “Next week?” Deidra asked. “Long vacation?”

  “Not really. The firm I work for is downsizing.”

  “Bummer,” the girl aptly stated.

  “Firm?” Lucy asked. “You’re not a—”

  “I am, or was, a data analyst.”

  “Analyst,” Lucy echoed.

  “And,” he turned to Deidra, “I didn’t get a chance to say anything before, but you did great out there.”

  “She’s one of my best players.” Callie beamed with pride more common in a parent than a teacher. It was nice to see. “I’m head coach at the high school and can attest that football isn’t even her best sport.”

  “Oh.” He looked oddly relieved. “What do you usually play?”

  Deidra shrugged. “Depends on the season. Softball or baseball is my favorite.”

  “She’s got a couple of colleges talking scholarships,” Callie chimed in.

  “For softball?” he asked.

  The girl nodded. “Soccer too.”

  “Wow. That is impressive. Do you have a favorite school?”

  “I was thinking something really different would be cool. Maybe in Texas or California.” Deidra beamed brightly.

  “Well, they would certainly be different from the northeast. Warmer, for one thing.”

  Deidra dragged her toe along the floor. “I’d love a school like Stanford, but they get a ton of interest and by now they have probably already been following the players they want. There’s no way they’d be interested in me. Never mind come clear across the country to see what I can do in person.”

  “You never know. What I saw looked pretty good.”

  Offering him a single shoulder shrug, Deidra didn’t look all that convinced that he had any idea what he was talking about. To her, Stanford was as attainable as a ride to the moon.

  Callie wished it were as easy as picking which school she preferred and all that would matter was her athletic prowess and her GPA, not her test taking skills. “She has a few obstacles to overcome.”

  “Oh?” he asked

  “I hate math.” Deidra looked him straight in the eye.

  Callie would give her one thing, she wasn’t a bashful sort. “Hate’s a pretty strong word.” Sometimes she wondered if the problem was the girl’s math skills or mindset.

  Zane shrugged. “I have to agree with the coach. It’s not all bad. Besides, what’s your ambition?”

  “Ambition?”

  “Yes. What do you want out of life? You’ve already said that your dream school is Stanford.”

  Shrugging sheepishly, the young girl nodded.

  “But what do you want to do after college?”

  Looking down a moment, she dragged her toe, making a wider half circle along the tile, and then looked back up. “I don’t know. Something that makes a lot of money.”

  Leaning back, he turned his hands palms up and shrugged back at her. “That will probably involve math.”

  Deidra’s stance went from defensive to offensive in a single beat. “If I were a boy, I could play professional sports. Then I’d make millions.”

  “The ones who make millions—and keep them—know how to do math.” Zane fiddled with a pen from his pocket, studied the young ballplayer a moment, then pushed away from the wall. “You’re good at football. Who taught you how to play?”

  “My dad’s from Pittsburgh. He’s a Steelers fan. Who do you think?”

  “Fair enough.” He smiled. “Let’s play a little game.”

  Deidra nodded.

  “It’s the fourth and five at the fifty yard line.”

  She nodded again.

  “Should I go for it or punt?”

  “Depends on the chances of getting a first down,” she spit out without a moment’s hesitation.

  “Exactly.” Zane reached for a sheet of paper on the nearby table and began scribbling.

  Deidra leaned in closer.

  Casually, Zane walked her through the calculations. By the time they were done, she’d spewed forth the numbers as fast as he had and they had calculated the chances of punting inside the ten yard line as well as the opponent’s chances of scoring if he got the ball at the fifty yard line and at the ten yard line.

  Heads together the entire time, Zane and Deidra bantered back and forth. So excited, Deidra didn’t even seem to realize she had just been doing advanced probabilities. Callie herself had tried tutoring her and could barely get her to do simple fractions before fading out. An idea was taking form and for the first time in a while, she had more hope for Deidra than ever before.

  “How well do you know him?” Lucy leaned into her and asked softly.

  “What?” So focused on the pair working out football probabilities, Callie hadn’t paid any attention to Lucy gathering more desserts from the fridge without bothering Lily, or the way her gaze kept drifting over to the two people at the table. Or maybe just the one man.

  “Ever meet him before? Know more than just whose grandson he is?”

  “No.” Callie shook her head. “Why?”

  Lucy scooped up the platter of sliced cake and shrugged. “No reason. Just wondering.”

  At that moment Deidra sprang away from the table, practically squealed “cool!” and sprinted toward the doorway.

  “Just a minute, young lady.” Lucy held out the platter. “You go ahead and take these out there and tell the kids only one per person. I’ll bring out something more in a second.”

  “I’ll help,” Zane offered.

  Lucy looked him over head to toe and back before nodding. “You can take the cupcakes on that plate over there.” She turned to Callie. “You might as well take the spitzbubens.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Halfway through the lobby, Zane looked over his shoulder before facing her. “Was Lucy in the Marines too?”

  Callie laughed. “Hardly. Though the way she runs this house, she might as well have been.”

  “I see.” Balancing the plate in one hand, he held the front door for her.

  “How long did you say you’ll be here?” she asked.

  “Maybe a couple of weeks. Why?”

  “I’ve been thinking. The only thing standing between Deidra and those scholarships are her ACT math scores.”

  “That’s surprising. She seemed to catch on quickly enough a few minutes ago. I bet a little extra tutoring would bring those scores up.”

  A knee jerk reaction was to spit out a few sarcastic words. As if she and the other teachers hadn’t thought of that. But this was no time for vinegar. “Glad you see it that way.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because I think, since time is running out, that starting tomorrow, you should be her tutor.”

  “Me?” He stopped short. “I’m not a math teacher.”

  “Less than five minutes ago you managed to accomplish something that no member of the high school math departm
ent has been able to do.”

  He frowned. “Teach her football strategy?”

  “Advanced probability. Will you do it?” She watched his face carefully as he processed the information. She could almost imagine he was calculating multiple probability outcomes for the situation. With every passing second, she could see his expression change—whether it was with acceptance or refusal she wasn’t sure yet.

  “But I’m not a math teacher,” he repeated softly.

  Praise heavens, hesitant acceptance slipped through between the lines of each of his words. He was going to do it. “Looks like you are now.”

  Chapter Four

  “I really appreciate you picking me up.” Poppy relaxed into the passenger seat.

  “No problem. Hopefully Jerry will have your car up and running sooner than later.” With Grams and the General off on a day of antiquing—not that Callie had any idea how her grandmother had talked her grandfather into that—and George visiting family for a few days, she was the first available to pick Poppy up after work. “I’ve been hearing lots of good things about the Mothers’ Day Out program.”

  “I am still so darn amazed they pulled that off. Anyone in on the early stages would have thought they were revamping the D-Day invasion plans. Who knew so many nice church people could be so disagreeable?”

  “You’d be amazed. I feel the same way about our nice parents and nice teachers.”

  “Really?” Poppy tugged on her seatbelt and shifted toward her sister. “I thought you loved the people you work with?”

  “I do.” Callie faced her sister a moment and smiled. “But sometimes I don’t always see eye to eye with all of them.”

  “Like who?”

  “Well.” Callie had to think a minute. “There was the time Mr. Lancing insisted that final exams were a waste of time for the kids.”

  Poppy spun around and leaned back again. “Where was he when I was in high school?”

  “Yeah, well. If they’d implemented that when we were in school, think how more unprepared we’d have been for college when faced with finals.”

  “True. I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Fortunately, the principal agreed with those of us who believe that our job is preparing kids for the rest of their life. Whether the kids are college students or plumbers, final exams are a fact of life and making things easier now often makes things more difficult in the adult world.”

  “Do plumbers have final exams?”

  Callie shrugged. “I would assume master plumbers, like electricians and other licensed professionals have to pass some kind of tests at some point. Don’t know if they’re exactly like a college final, but life is full of things we don’t want to do. It’s called work.”

  “Tell me about it.” Poppy sighed.

  “Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good.” Callie slowed around the upcoming bend. “Now what’s the problem at church?”

  “Nothing really. Same old, same old.”

  “I don’t like the sound of th…at!” Callie slammed on her brakes, the rear of the car hefting upward like a bucking bronco. “What the heck knocked that sucker over?”

  Falling trees were as much a fact of life in New England as exams, work, death, and taxes. But usually they landed during, or on the heels of, some massive storm. Teetering along and stumbling upon a sucker big enough to block the width of the road in the middle of a sunny windless week wasn’t all that common.

  “Guess we’d better see if we can move it.” Poppy unsnapped her safety restraint.

  Slamming the driver side door closed behind her, Callie surveyed the tree buried beneath a mound of waving green leaves. “I don’t think we are moving much of anything.”

  “No,” her sister agreed, her gaze lifting up to the treetops on the side of the road. “I wonder what the heck brought this down?”

  “I suppose it was weakened in some recent storm and finally just keeled over.”

  Her gaze lowering to the downed tree, Poppy wrinkled her brow in thought. “You think?”

  “What else could it be?” Callie speed dialed the local firehouse. She wasn’t sure if Lily’s husband was working a shift today or not, but there was no point in dialing 911 since the call would only get rerouted to Cole’s firehouse anyhow.

  Poppy walked around the top edge of the tree, nudging at branches, most likely calculating how much had to go for their car to make it around and continue down the road. “Wonder how long this will take?”

  “What?” Callie looked over her shoulder. “You got a hot date tonight or something?” The second she noticed her sister’s cheeks flush a rosy shade of pink, she knew why Poppy was scrutinizing the details of the downed tree. “You do!”

  The pink traveled up Poppy’s cheeks to the tips of her ears. “I don’t know that I would say hot exactly. But I am meeting a man for dessert.” Callie didn’t know if she should go with the flow since her sweet sister actually had a date or take issue with the fact that it was dessert not dinner.

  Running her hand through a patch of leaves, Poppy sighed and looked at her sister. “I don’t want Lucy to hear about this.”

  There was no need to ask why not. Anybody on the mountain knew the last thing a person wanted, or needed, was for Lucy Dolly Levi to get involved in their love life.

  “Hello?” her phone announced loudly. Between the challenging cell connection on the mountain and being distracted by Poppy’s revelation, Callie had almost forgotten about calling the firehouse, the felled tree, or being trapped on this side of the road.

  “Hey, it’s Callie Nelson,” she spoke into the phone.

  “You looking for Cole?” She recognized Peyton’s voice.

  “I’m looking for anybody who can get this tree out of the road so I can get home.”

  “What road?”

  “The only one between Lawford Main Street and Hart House.”

  “I hope you’re not in a hurry.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that any more than she’d liked Poppy’s earlier tone.

  “We’re down a fire truck and the others are dealing with the barn fire at the Henderson’s.”

  “Oh no!” The risk of wild fire aside, the last thing anyone needed was to have their property burn down. “The animals?”

  “Livestock is fine. The building is yet to be determined.” The sound of his fingers drumming on the table echoed. “You may want to go back to town for a bit.”

  Never mind the road. For the Henderson’s sake, she sure hoped they got that fire under control sooner than later. “Thanks. Everyone take care.”

  Poppy kept her attention on her sister as she disconnected the call. “Jake?”

  Callie nodded. “Jake.” Several minutes and several phone calls later, Callie had a sinking feeling that this tree wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  “Now what? Back to town?” Poppy asked.

  Heaving a sigh, Callie reached for the car door. “Looks like it.”

  “That’s all right. I wasn’t so sure about this dessert thing anyhow.” Poppy circled the hood of the car, returning to the passenger side.

  “Why not?”

  “Blind date. Pastor set it up.”

  “The pastor?” Her sister’s hesitation was understandable. Callie wasn’t sure when the church had started playing matchmaker for the congregation and she was even less sure of the pastor’s skill set in that department. Heaven certainly knew they’d all learned the hard way from Lucy that mismatches could have pitiful consequences.

  Craning her neck to see around the end of the tree, Poppy let the car door fall shut and stepped forward. “Sounds like somebody’s stopped on the other side.”

  The leaf tips stirred from more than the wind. Branches parted, and like a phoenix from the ashes, their new guest Zane emerged.

  “What are you doing here?” Callie asked.

  Zane flashed a lazy smile. “Nice to see you too.”

  “She didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” Poppy excused on her behalf.


  His smile brightened. “No problem. I spotted your housekeeper carrying a chainsaw across the front yard and convinced her to let me play lumberjack while she rounds up some extra help.”

  If not for the way Poppy’s face lit up at the prospect of being rescued—or, more accurately, being free to make it to her date tonight—Callie would probably have been less receptive of the man’s offer of help. Which made no sense, since help is what friends and neighbors did around here. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “I don’t suppose you brought an extra one of those?” Callie asked.

  “Nope. But there are a few cutters in the Jeep. If you’re offering, I could use some help getting rid of these smaller twigs before I go after the bigger branches.”

  “You got it,” both Poppy and Callie echoed.

  “All right.” His expressions seemed hesitant before he smiled again. “Let’s cut this sapling up.”

  Sapling. Oh brother. The situation called for experienced assistance from the fire department, or the forestry service, and she was going to have to settle for a math savvy city boy. Heaven help them.

  ***

  When Zane had first spotted Lucy coming out of the storage shed lugging a chainsaw case, he’d wondered where George or the General were. Not that he expected the General to be lugging around chainsaws at his age, but he knew his grandfather and men like him, and that there was no way any retired military officer was going to allow a family housekeeper to do anything that involved a chainsaw. Political correctness might call that chauvinist, but the old men were who they were, and Zane wasn’t going to do any less than they would expect from him.

  Once he’d caught up to her, she had explained that Callie and her sister Poppy were trapped down the road on the other side of a fallen tree. The interesting thing was how she displayed the same anxiousness she might have shown if they were stranded on a lonely highway in the middle of Death Valley and not minutes away from downtown Lawford. The good thing was that she gave no thought to her previous reaction to seeing him or questioning who he was. The not so good thing was that, for a moment or two, he thought he might have to wrestle the dangerous tool away from the older woman.

 

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